


Starker Tumblr Prompts

by ObligatoryNasty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Armor Kink, Biting, College Roommate AU, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Drabbles, Exhibitionism, Feminization, Ficlets, Fluff, High School AU, Iron Man Suit Kink, King!Tony, Light Bondage, M/M, Overstimulation, PowerBottom!Peter, Powerless!Peter, Safeword Use, Smut, Starker, TW:Allusions of Suicide, TW:Blood Play, TW:Consensual Non-Consent(Dub-Con), TW:Crying, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Mentions of Murder, TW:Trauma, TW:cheating?, TW:mentions of drinking, Underage - Freeform, Witch!Peter, badboy!Tony, ghost!tony, jealous!tony, soft!Peter, tw: mentions of violence, tw:bullying, vampire!Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-01-02 13:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObligatoryNasty/pseuds/ObligatoryNasty
Summary: Putting all my Tumblr prompt fills here. Please read the tags in the notes before each chapter! Enjoy!If you want to submit a prompt idea, send me an ask on Tumblr @obligatorynasty- Chapters -1. Leather Weather - Fluffy Highschool AU2. Just You, Mr. Stark. - Angsty Jealous!Tony3. Park Benches and You - Exhibitionism Smut4. Breaking Resolve - Feminization5. How to Blow Off Steam. - Powerbottom!Peter Smut6. I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby. - Highschool AU Fluff7. Bite Me. -  College Roommate AU, Vampire!Tony, Bloodplay Smut8. Newlywed - Married Peter and Tony Fluff9. Master of Magic - King!Tony, Witch!Peter AU10. In Each Others' Arms - Super Fluffy11. Lighthouse - Angsty Ghost!Tony12. More Than - Camping Starker Smut13. Going Along - Safeword Use, Degradation Smut14. Overdriven to your Limits - Armor Kink, Overstimulation Smut





	1. Leather Weather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "why is sharing clothes so intimate like.. bro…. are you cold… here…. borrow my sweatshirt… it smells like the brand of washing powder i use…. a little glimpse into the oddly private domesticity of my own life bro…. its still warm from where i knotted it around my waist (i dont feel the cold)… here bro… take it…"  
-  
Tags: High School AU, Underage, BadBoy!Tony, Fluff

“Here, Parker. Now stop fucking shivering, you’re pissing me off.” Tony’s voice was sharp as he extended his leather jacket to the smaller boy, who, prior to Tony’s generosity, wore only a light sweater to the bus stop that morning. Could he blame him? It was still early. The sun hadn’t made it over the horizon yet. There were clouds! And, even if the forecast said it would be warm today, the wind could numb fingers.

“You’re giving me your jacket?” Peter’s voice was cautious. As if speaking to the boy, whose lips always seemed to be pursed around a cigarette and whose steel-toed boots were famous for kicking faces, was a bad thing.

“I’m not _giving_ it to you.” Tony scoffed, throwing the jacket against Peter’s chest and flicking his cigarette against the asphalt, not bothering to stomp it out. “I’m letting you borrow it because you’re fucking annoying to look at.”

“Oh,” Peter whispered as he pulled the leather over his sweater. His tiny frame swimming in the dense fabric and his frostbitten hands taking shelter in the pockets. “But aren’t you cold too?”

“No.” Tony lied.

Of course, he was cold – the only thing he wore under his jacket was a black crew neck – but he wasn’t going to be a bitch about it, especially not in front of Parker. “Now shut up. Stop talking to me.”

The bus arrived ten minutes after, but before Peter could give the jacket back, Tony was at the back of the bus with kids Peter liked to avoid.

So, Peter continued his day with the jacket on. It smelled of cigarettes with the undertones of a fresh scented cologne that Tony must have sprayed a few days ago. There was a pocket on the inside of the jacket, but the only thing stuffed in there was tiny note that read ‘_Tony Stark has a Heart_’.

It made Peter smile.

After school, Tony wasn’t on the bus – Peter guessed he was off playing into the bad boy title. So, for now, he kept the jacket. It was fine. He would see Tony in the morning.

“Aunt May, I’m home and I’m exhausted!”’

“Well take a nap! Dinner will be ready in 20!”

And nap, he did. Curled up on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of the leather, as May prepared dinner.

The next morning was colder. Frigid. Peter wore three layers and pair of winter gloves as he carried the leather jacket to the bus stop.

Tony was there. Standing in just his black crew neck and a scarf. The sight made Peter feel colder.

“I brought your jacket back.” Peter’s breath turned to steam in the air. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Tony.”

“Whatever, Parker.” Tony was brash, probably because his fingers were aching from the cold. He snatched the jacket, but flinched as he pulled it on. “What the fuck did you do to it?”

“N-Nothing! I swear! What are you-?”

“It smells like fruit.” Tony paused, looking away from Peter’s doe eyes as he whispered, “And you.”

Peter blushed, “Oh, sorry! I use my aunt’s body wash and I fell asleep in it. Plus, I wore it all day yesterday and- so it might have- um…just, sorry!”

“Whatever,” Tony huffed, rubbing his fingers together, trying to friction away the cold bite.

“Here, S-Stark!” Peter tried his best to mock Tony’s voice as he held out his pair of gloves. “Now stop rubbing your hands together! You’re- um, you’re really p-pis- you’re really upsetting me, okay?”

And Tony couldn’t help but laugh and play along, mocking Peter’s demure speech right back at him. “You’re g-giving me your gloves? Oh wow!”

This time Peter laughed, more confident in his joke with Tony’s laughter present. “I’m not _giving_ them to you. I’m letting you borrow them because,” Peter smirked, “You’re kind and you have a heart.”

“Fuck. You saw at that?” Tony snatched the gloves. His face red from the cold but also from the embarrassment. “Learn to mind your business, Parker.”

Peter gave a look of guilt, tilting his head down, “Sorry.”

And the sight made Tony weak. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s you so it’s fine. Thanks.”

Peter’s eyes sparkled at Tony’s words, and it made his bad boy heart skip a beat.

“Don’t make that face. I’m talking about the fucking gloves, alright? Thanks for the gloves!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	2. Just You, Mr. Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Tony thinking Peter might be cheating on him with a younger man and so hiding to try and catch peter during a party at a bar. Peter knows tony is there and is hurt by the mistrust. Happy ending is a must. If you already got another prompt, consider keeping that one for another time ?"  
-  
Tags: Jealous!Tony, Peter is 21, Angst, TW:cheating?

Tony liked to think he could trust Peter. A young man with eyes so innocent – as if the thought of doing bad things never crossed his mind – and a heart so loving and kind that it left Tony honored to be the one who held it. Yes, the older man wanted to believe that. That Peter loved him. That Peter cherished what they had. So, on the night of his twenty-first, when Peter asked to borrow the private jet on the weekend – because he and his friends wanted to go on a wild birthday trip – Tony said, “Sure, Pete. Anything for you.”

“Who would be going?” Tony wondered, and Peter just shrugged, listing his friend group with a nonchalant air; MJ and Ned and maybe Betty and Brad. His typical crowd.

But then Peter smiled – all bright and excited – his eyes doing that twinkling thing that Tony thought was reserved for him. “Oh, and Harry!”

_Who the fuck is Harry?_ Tony wanted to ask. Wanted to raise his voice with jealous spite and demand Peter explain who this boy was that could make him smile Tony’s smile.

But he didn’t.

No, instead, Tony had Happy prepare two jets that weekend. Two hotel bookings. Two itineraries. Close enough to watch. To catch. To expose. Close enough to see this Harry kid hug Peter at the airport. Close enough to see how ecstatic Peter was in another person’s arms.

And what killed Tony the most wasn’t the jealousy or the anger, it was the sharp twinge of insecurity that planted itself deep inside of him. Clawing at his confidence. Brutally reminding him that he was old. The opposite of Harry.

Harry looked to be the same age as Peter. He was young and spry and his hair wasn’t riddled with grays. He could keep up with Peter’s energy in a way Tony never could. This plagued the older man all day. It ate away at his heart as he watched Peter with his friends. Or rather, Peter with Harry.

At the mall, Harry carried Peter’s bags. At lunch, Harry bought them a shared appetizer. At the movie, Harry whispered and Peter giggled. At dinner, they sat too close. And at the hotel, Peter disappeared in Harry’s room for an hour. What the fuck was Tony supposed to think?

What else was Tony supposed to do but continue to watch? To find irrefutable proof that Peter was cheating.

So, here he was. Hiding behind a crowded bar in some Brazilian nightclub, obsessively staring at Peter from afar. The kid was dressed too nicely in those skinny jeans and that floral button-up shirt. Who was he trying to impress? He also laughed too earnestly, whispered too secretly, and danced a bit too close to Harry for Tony’s liking. It hurt to see Peter’s arm brush against another person. To see Peter laughing and enjoying himself without Tony right next to him.

So Tony left. Breaching the threshold between the dank nightclub and the crisp summer air with his eyes burning and his fists balled.

“Is this what we do now?” It was Peter’s voice. “Stalk each other across continents?”

Tony visibly jumped, turning around and stunned to find his lover’s aggravated face staring back at him. They were alone. Standing on the sidewalk under the soft glow of the bar’s neon sign. And Tony was silent for a moment – flipping through his responses at high speed and deciding on anger.

“Don’t you make this about me,” Tony seethed. “Especially not when you’re in there whoring yourself off to _Harry_.” He said the name with spite.

“Whoring?” Peter was taken aback. “What are you even talking about!? Do you hear yourself right now?!”

“Do _you_ hear yourself?!” Tony screamed, his gestures taut and pointed. “Stop acting innocent. I saw you go into his room! You were in there for an hour! What the fuck did you do, Peter? Did you suck his dick? Did you let him fuck you?!”

“Tony, stop it!” Peter screamed too, but his eyes began to leak streams of tears. “I would never do that! Why would you even think that? What the hell is going on with you?!”

“Look at you,” Tony got quiet, but his tone settled in disappointment. “You crying because you were caught? Hm? Or is it-?”

“I’m crying because you’re yelling at me!” Peter sniffled, rubbing at his face, trying to wick away the litany of tears. “I didn’t do anything with Harry! I can’t believe you would even think that. I can’t believe you would-” Peter sobbed, “Is _that_ why you’re here? Because you think I would cheat on you?”

“Not because I _think _you did,” Tony’s eyes went dark. “It’s because I _know_ you did. Was he better than me? Because he’s younger? You can admit it. I’m done being offended by you and your lies.”

Peter was shaking, “Tony, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t cheat. I didn’t. Why don’t you believe me? Harry is just a friend. I haven’t seen him in forever. Not since freshman year in high school. I was happy to hang out again, but I don’t like him, I-”

“Then why do you look at him like that?”

“Look at him like what, Tony?!” Peter was starting to be exhausted. “What do I look at him like?”

“You fucking-!” Tony almost snapped. “You look at him like you look at me!”

“Tony, what-! That’s not even possible! I-”

“But I’ve seen it! All fucking day you’ve been looking at him like that!”

“What? With excitement?” Peter pressed. “With happiness? With any other normal emotion someone would show if their old friend came to visit?”

“I-” Tony tried to speak, but Peter wouldn’t let him.

“I could never look at someone the way I look at you!” Peter stepped forward, putting himself inches away from the older man. “Because I love you, you idiot! I look at you like I love you. I fucking love you so much that it hurts! So stop yelling at me, and just talk to me. Please!”

Tony’s chest felt tight and as he gazed into the younger’s eyes, he couldn’t fight off his own tears any longer. They just escaped, quietly rolling down his cheeks. “I’m worried.” He choked out.

“About what?” Peter’s eyes softened and voice dropped to a whisper.

“Everything.” Tony’s voice was strained, and to his own ears, it was pathetic. “You growing up and realizing you want something more. Something young that I can’t give you.”

“Tony-”

“And you just leaving me one day because of it. Because I’m not enough, and you are so much more.”

“Tony-”

“And me not being able to say anything because trapping you- Keeping you here with me when you’re young and want to explore would be cruel, and-”

“Tony!” Peter threw himself into Tony’s arms, latching on like the only thing keeping the world from careening into the sun was their embrace. “You’re enough. You’re _more_ than enough. You have to trust me, Tony. Please, please trust me. I love you. I don’t want anyone else. Even if I go to the other side of the world, I’ll always be thinking of you. Wanting you and only you.”

“_Fuck_,” Tony cursed at himself, wrapping his arms around Peter. “Pete, I- I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry for everything. I’m-”

“I know, Tones.” Peter soothed. “It’s okay. We’ll talk through it. It’s fine.” He leaned back far enough to capture Tony’s lips against his own. It was chaste and tasted salty from the tears Peter wiped away. “Let’s go back to the hotel, okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	3. Park Benches and You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “We’re in public, you know.” & “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”  
-  
Tags: Peter is 18+, Exhibitionism, Smut

“Pete,” Tony mumbled, bringing his hands against the kid’s soft curls and trying his best not to lose it on a park bench. Sure, it was nighttime and no one seemed to be around, but on the off chance that someone was, they would be graced with the alluring sight of Peter on his knees and lapping at the underside of Tony’s pulsating length. **“We’re in public, you know.”**

“I know, Mr. Stark,” Peter practically moaned, looking up at Tony with a lust drunk gaze. His tongue darting out to swipe across the leaking tip and the corners of his lips twitching upward when Tony groaned at the contact. “But I still want it. I want your cock down my throat.”

The older man inhaled through his teeth and tilted his head back, fighting off his mounting pleasure. Peter’s words just had too much of an affect on him. “You really want this? Right here? Right now?”

“Yes,” Peter hummed, his eyes twinkling with a playful innocence as he seductively grazed his fingers up Tony’s legs. “_Please_, Mr. Stark. Use me, use my slutty little mouth.”

And what kind of person would Tony be if he said no to that? So he pulled the kid forward by his hair and watched with greed as Peter’s mouth instinctively fell open, taking the length to the back of his throat in an instant. The kid gagged, causing his drool to sputter out and down his chin, but Tony held him there. Enjoying the warm slick feeling of Peter’s fluttering throat and the way he clutched onto Tony’s thighs as if they were his anchor. And only when Peter struggled against the hold did Tony allow him up for air.

Peter managed two deep breaths before Tony was pulling him again and vigorously driving his length in and out of Peter’s mouth. Each thrust slamming against the back of his throat and sending waves of arousal throughout his body.

“God, Pete, look how good you’re taking it.” Tony groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last long, especially not with Peter’s teary eyes staring up at him like that. “You’re so good, so good-”

Peter moaned in response, unable to say or do anything more than let his mentor fuck his mouth until climax. And that’s exactly what he did.

After a few more quick thrust, Tony was coming, shooting a thick spurt down Peter’s throat that made the younger man cough before pulling out to finish his orgasm against Peter’s face.

Tony took a few deep breaths before smiling down at Peter and gently pulling against his arm. “Come here. Come kiss me.”

Peter blushed at his mentor’s candid expression, “M-Mr. Stark, I- But I- My mouth is covered in-”

**“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	4. Breaking Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? Cause if you did we're having sex. Right now."  
-  
Tags: Peter is 18, Slight Feminization?

Peter strolled into the lab, wearing what Tony could only describe as a resolve-breaking kind of outfit.

The first thing that caught Tony’s eye was the kid’s hair. It was perfectly fluffed and framing his sweet face in a way that made Tony want to card his fingers through it; tug on it in the throes of passion; pull hard enough to make the kid scream.

The next was the makeup. Peter wore it often, but never too much – just enough to even his complexion and make his skin look like it glowed. Then, there was the choker. It was thin and black with a tiny ring charm at its center. It made the kid’s neck seem small and dainty. It gave Tony a craving to wrap his fingers around it, squeeze, and watch the kid get high off the breathless pleasure.

As for his top, Peter wore a gray over-sized Stark Industries hoodie. And Tony wouldn’t admit it, but seeing his name across the kid’s body in any capacity was fucking tantalizing. The hoodie’s sleeves were long and covered his hands so much that only the tips of his fingers were visible. His fingernails were painted a bright red with blue and black accents that were no doubt inspired by his superhero persona.

The next piece to catch Tony’s eye was the skirt – _god, the fucking skirt_. The kid had been obsessed with them lately. He was constantly talking about destroying gendered clothing norms, running around the Avengers compound in skirts of all kinds. This one was Tony’s favorite. It was simple - pleated and black – and it made Tony wonder what it would look like hiked up.

Along with his skirt fascination, Peter also fell into thigh high socks because: _My legs get too cold without them, Mr. Stark._ And these particular thigh highs made Tony’s mouth water. They were sporty white socks with two black stripes at the thigh level that brought an obscene amount of attention to the kid’s perfectly toned legs. The outfit ended with Peter’s favorite pair of converse that had mismatched shoelace colors.

It was hard to look at anything else but Peter. So, Tony just allowed his eyes to wander up and down the boy’s body.

**“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip, **Mr. Stark?” Peter teased with a suggestive grin, taking a few steps towards Tony, putting them inches away from each other. **“Cause if you did we’re having sex.”** Peter bit his own lip and reached a gentle hand up to drag along the contour of his mentor’s jaw. **“Right now.”**

And Tony could hear it; the sound of his resolve breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	5. How to Blow Off Steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”  
-  
Tags: Peter is 18, Light Bondage, PowerBottom!Peter, Smut, TW: some mentions of violence

Sometimes Peter really needed to blow off steam. Between being an exemplary college student, attending all the Avenger’s meetings and training sessions, staying true to his friendly neighborhood Spider-Man promise, and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, he was fucking losing it. Especially now, as he was getting his head pressed into the concrete by some rouge, super-powered villain that just happened to be wreaking havoc on his date night. Although, knowing his boyfriend – the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist himself – he probably knew Peter was stuck saving the day and didn’t mind.

The fight continued through dinner time and down three blocks before Peter finally managed to subdue and web the guy. It was infuriating and left Peter with a throbbing headache and some serious pent up rage. So, once the police showed up, Peter was out of there. Swinging his way to the top of Stark Tower and dropping onto the balcony where Tony stood, waiting for him.

“Hey, kid,” The older man smiled, holding his arms open for an embrace, but Peter just pulled off his mask and shook his head.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark, I can’t right now.” Peter’s voice was taut as he stomped his way into the penthouse. “FRIDAY! Punching bag protocol!” He called into the air, watching as a reinforced punching bag lowered into the open space by the balcony doors and locked into the floor. It was a protocol Tony gifted to Peter after he had his first meltdown. He needed something that wouldn’t break beneath his super strength, and this modified bag did the trick.

Peter spared no time in wailing on the thing. Punches and kicks and screams. “Fuck that guy! Stupid villains and their bad timing. I was _trying_ to have a nice date night!” He delivered a roundhouse kick to the robust material. “And fuck school! How am I the only college student still getting bullied by someone from high school?! _How!_” Each word was punctuated with a swift punch. “And so help me, if I get knocked down by Capt in training _one more fucking time_, I am going to lose it!”

**“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”** Tony interrupted, pulling Peter’s attention.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Tony pointed, gesturing up and down the kid’s body. “This whole anger thing you got going on is hot, Pete.”

Peter rolled his eyes with a grin, “Are you really getting off on my rage right now?”

“Absolutely,” Tony grinned back. “Why don’t you bring some of that rage into the bedroom, sweetheart?”

Peter gave Tony a wild look of ravenous lust. “_Right_ now?”

And Tony tipped his head in a short nod before starting towards the bedroom. Peter was practically bouncing on his heels as he followed like an excited puppy. Out of all the ways to blow off steam, sex was the best, especially this kind of sex. The kind where Mr. Stark lets him do whatever he wants – whatever he needs – to cool his head.

They started at kisses, expressing an intense intimacy with their mingling tongues and dancing lips. It was passionate and sweet, but it didn’t last long. Without warning, Peter pushed Tony against the sheets and shot webs against his hands, pinning the older man against the headboard. “I’m taking the lead today, Mr. Stark. That okay?”

“Have at it, kid.” Tony laughed, tugging at the webbed restraints. “Not like I can do anything right now anyway.”

Peter smiled, yanking the older’s pants and boxers away with one pull, revealing his full erection. “Is this from watching me lose my shit just now?” He giggled, gripping Tony’s length and giving a few slow strokes.

Tony groaned through a smile, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Peter dipped down to take it into his mouth. Dragging his lips down until the head of Tony’s cock met the back of his throat, and then pulling upwards and repeating.

The older man tensed at the sensation, “Yeah, kid.”

Peter pulled off with a _pop_ and licked his lips, “I want this in me right fucking now.” And he was serious. He hopped off the bed, pressed the quick release on his suit, shed his clothing, and fetched a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer. He squeezed a good amount of lube into his hand and slicked it across the length of Tony’s cock, watching excitedly as the man’s hips jolted at the feeling. “Fuck it, I’m just going to go for it.”

“Wait, kid,” Tony breathed, his head tipped back against the pillows. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Tony’s concern was sweet, but Peter was already positioning himself above his lover’s length. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark. Remember, I’m not just sticky, I’m also strong.” He smiled and bit his lip, “My body can handle it.” He whispered as he pushed himself down, waiting for the head to slip in before dropping his hips down. Of course, there was a small sting of pain, but it was mostly pleasure and it was amplified by the near scream Tony let out at the sudden tightness.

“_Fuck_,” Peter moaned as he started riding, rolling his hips up and down. He was slow at first, taking his time and adjusting to the fullness. “How’s this, Mr. Stark? Do you like this? You like it when I ride you like this?”

“_Yes, baby_, don’t stop.” Tony groaned, rutting his hips upward to meet Peter halfway.

The feeling alone made Peter ache for orgasm, so he chased it. Bouncing himself faster and stroking himself in time with the pace. Sounds started spilling from him that he couldn’t control. His body felt fiery. Each time their hips connected, a delicious burst of bliss radiated through his veins. Breathing started to become difficult too as the pleasure coiling inside him tensed.

“Mr. Stark, _Tony, I’m coming, I’m coming-!_” Peter let out a breathy whine as his body stiffened and he fell into climax, painting Tony’s stomach in thick white rivulets. It felt amazing, especially when Tony came inside him only seconds later.

This really was the best way to blow off steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	6. I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Idk if you’re accepting prompts but—high school au w Badboy!Tony and soft!Peter and Tony like teases peter a lot and he says something or mocks peter (like peter stuttered talking to him cause he’s a bit shy and Tony jokingly mocks him) and peter starts to cry and Tony feels super duper bad about it and fluff fluff fluff!"  
-  
Tags: High School AU, Underage, BadBoy!Tony, Soft!Peter, Fluff, TW:Bullying, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW: Mentions of Violence, TW:Crying

The school day was always the same for Peter – bus, class, lunch, class, bus – and peppered in there was always a good dash of bullying. Not that it was a surprise. He was a spectacle after all; possessing a much smaller frame than his cohorts, thick-rimmed glasses, zero fashion sense, a squeaky and high-pitched voice. He knew he was softer than the other kids too; more sensitive, an easier target, more likely to choose flight over fight. He knew that when Clint and Natasha tripped him in the hall, or when Bucky and Sam vandalized his locker, or when Flash called him names, they were doing it because his weak reactions made for a good laugh.

Peter wouldn’t say it didn’t bother him – because it did! It really, _really_ did. Each teasing microaggression, each shove in the hall, each jab at his self-esteem made him want to run and hide. Bury his face in his hands so no one would see the tears pouring from his big brown eyes. But he didn’t. Instead, he endured it. Ignored it or pitifully laughed along with it to ease the sting of being socially ostracized. He didn’t want them to see him cry.

Even now, as Thor and Loki mocked every word Peter said to Ned from their place at the adjacent lunch table, he tried his best not to let it get to him.

“Don’t pay attention to them, dude,” Ned shook his head and shrugged, “They’re being assholes.”

“Okay,” Peter said with a forced smile, trying with all his might to ignore the relentless mockery. “So tell me more about the Lego Death Star? How many pieces is it?”

Thor’s roaring laughter cut through the bustle of the lunchroom. “_Tell me more about the Lego Death Star_, brother!”

Loki snickered, shooting Peter a wicked grin, “What would you like to know? _How many pieces it has_ or, perhaps, how happy I am that my mommy bought me a child’s toy?”

Peter bit the inside of his lip, a tactic he used to hold back his tears. And Ned must have noticed because he turned to the older boys with anger in his eyes and said, “Can you guys just lay off? We aren’t even bothering you.”

“Brother, did you hear something?” Thor looked around, making a show of just how little he cared about Ned’s anger.

“Not at all, brother,” Loki laughed, playing along with his brother’s ignorance, “Tell me, what have you heard?”

“If I’m not mistaken, it had the distinct sound of a squealing pig!” Thor erupted in more laughter. His callous joke making every table in their vicinity burst into laughter of their own. And, if their sick humor was targeted at Peter, then he wouldn’t have opened his mouth. But it was directed at Ned and that was unforgivable.

“S-Shut up, T-Thor!” Peter yelled over the rambunctious crowd, his hands shaking and his heart pounding with fear as he, for the first time, chose fight over flight. His voice definitely cracked and his words held no real threat but, in the moment, it was exhilarating. Despite his fear, the crowd still went silent. Their faces stunned because Peter Parker never raises his voice. And just as Peter started to feel as though he’d won, it was ripped away from him.

“_S-Shut up, T-Thor! _D-Don’t talk to me and my pig like that!” Loki dramatically mocked Peter’s voice, bringing the crowd and Thor back into their laughter.

And Peter bit his lip again, hard enough for a faint coppery taste to rush his mouth. His eyes stung, and the trembles from his hands traveled up his arms and engulfed his entire being. He was upset, but his nerves kept him from choosing fight again. Instead, he stood from the table and ran. One foot in front of the other towards the cafeteria doors. Wanting nothing more than to escape the vicious scrutiny of his teenage peers.

But then, Peter was falling. His foot catching on some unidentifiable something and his face careening towards the off-white linoleum tiles. The impact hurt; more to his pride than to his body. And the laughter was louder, especially when Peter turned to see Clint’s outstretched foot and Natasha’s smug grin. Still, Peter chose flight. He clenched his teeth and scrambled to feet, and didn’t bother to look back as he finished his sprint to the doors.

Even in the calm of the hallway, Peter didn’t stop running. His body buzzed with an intense need to put as much distance between himself and his bullies as he could. His eyes were burning with the need to cry. His heart hurt and his mind was filled with flashbacks of every single time he endured, ignored, and struggled in silence. So he ran, and the only thing with the power to stop him was the sturdy chest of Tony Stark.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, Parker!” Tony yelled, making Peter flinch backward.

Out of all the people in the school, Tony Stark was the most fearsome. The most blood-hungry. The most respected. No one wanted to be on Tony’s bad side. The last guy who managed to piss him off doesn’t even go to the school anymore. Peter still remembers the day when the guy left on a stretcher, swearing up and down that Tony had nothing to do with it. But Peter knew, and so did every other student.

“S-S-Sorry, To-Tony. I-I didn’t- I w-was- I-” Peter stuttered, unable to get a coherent word out underneath the terrifying boy’s gaze.

Tony scoffed with an amused grin on his face, “S-S-Sorry, To-Tony.” He repeated with a laugh, bringing his hand up to flick Peter squarely on his forehead. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Parker? Just fucking speak.”

Peter brought a hand against his forehead, holding the spot where Tony’s finger connected. The dull throbbing pulled at his very last shred of self-control. He couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes betrayed him first as tears began waterfalling down his cheeks. Next was his voice. It turned to sobs and whines – all breathy and weak and embarrassing – but he couldn’t care. His body was the next to go. His frame visibly trembling and his hands covering his face as he just _cried_. Pathetically, and in front of Tony Stark.

“What the fuck, Parker?” Tony scoffed, “It was just a flick. Don’t be a little bitch about it.”

But Peter couldn’t stop his tears.

“Why the hell are you crying? Fuck-” Tony’s tone changed, dropping to something softer and a bit more frantic. “Seriously, Parker, quit it.”

But the tears kept flowing.

“Fucking hell. Just-! I’m sorry- just stop. Fucking stop-” Tony was rambling and if Peter wasn’t so lost in his overwhelming emotions, he would have taken notice of Tony Stark’s uncharacteristic apology.

“Peter.”

That did it. Peter finally glanced up, surprised to see a worried face staring down at him. He parted his lips, wanting to speak, wanting to say something – because _holy shit_, Tony Stark just apologized _and_ called him Peter – but no words came. Instead, his eyes went wide and his tears stopped pouring and the wetness on his cheeks began to dry as he stared up into the taller boy’s dark eyes.

It was Tony who had the guts to break the silence. “Sorry,” He mumbled, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and looking away from the shorter boy. “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you were going to cry like that.”

Peter’s face went hot. “I-I…um, it’s okay. I’m sorry for- I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”

“It’s whatever,” Tony shrugged, his eyes carefully moving back to Peter’s and his voice soft and worrisome. “You mad?”

Peter was floored by the older boy’s wary energy. He had never spoken to Tony before – mainly due to the horror stories of the vicious bad boy who only spoke with his fists – but now, Peter was starting to doubt them. “It wasn’t you!” Peter shook his head, his nervous stutter melting away as he became more comfortable in Tony’s presence. “I mean, the flick hurt but it wasn’t what caused it. I was already upset.”

Tony’s eyebrow shot up, “What upset you?”

“I just get picked on a lot.” Peter gave a weak laugh. His arms moving across his body in a self hug like he was trying to disappear. “It’s not a big deal.” Peter lied.

Suddenly, Tony’s hand was against Peter’s hair, threading through his brown curls in a gentle patting motion. The touch made Peter’s shoulders jump up in surprise but he didn’t move. It was soothing and kind and Peter thought of it as Tony’s way of comforting him.

“Who picks on you?” Tony asked, leaning down to be at eye level with Peter and never stopping his soft touch. “I’ll fuck them up.”

Peter gasped at the proximity. Tony was close enough to kiss – why Peter’s mind went there, he didn’t know. “Y-You don’t have to do that.”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “I think I do.”

“But why?” Peter whispered, scared to speak too loudly with Tony’s face so close.

“’Cause I like you, Peter.”

A warm hue crept up Peter’s face and his stutter came back with the vengeance. “W-Wha-? What are you- You l-like me?! We’ve n-never spoke before! W-Why do you l-like me?”

“Don’t know. I just do.” Tony grinned, “And I hated seeing you cry. So, I’ll ask again, who the fuck picks on you? Name some names, baby, and I’ll make sure they don’t even breathe in your direction again.” A wild look filled Tony’s eyes. “Shit, if you said so, I’d make sure they never breathed another breath.”

Peter stared at Tony with bewildered eyes. Not only did Tony Stark just confess, but he threatened to kill Peter’s bullies and he called Peter baby. _Baby._ Peter couldn’t believe this was even happening. “I- I don’t- um… I-”

“You know what?” Tony stood upright and threw his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Come on.” He started towards the lunchroom, towing a reluctant Peter at his side. “You can just point those bitches out. I’ll drag their stupid faces across the floor and then, me and you, we can have lunch together.”

“T-Tony, wait. I don’t- I can’t go back in there.” Peter felt his eyes begin to sting again.

“Don’t you worry one bit, baby.” Tony didn’t stop walking, instead, he pressed a quick kiss against Peter’s temple. “I’ve got you.”

The kiss sent a wave of goosebumps across Peter’s skin, and despite his nerves, he let Tony pull him along. He felt safe, held against the older boy’s side with a protective arm around his shoulders. He liked it. He liked him. “Okay.”

Tony smiled, “That your answer then?”

“To what?” Peter asked as they rounded the corner towards the cafeteria doors.

“To being mine.”

“Being yours?” Peter blushed again, “Isn’t that a bit possessive?”

“Probably, but I can’t help it. When I see something I want, I take it. And I really want you, baby.”

Peter giggled at Tony’s brutally candid words, “Okay, sure. I’ll be yours.”

“Perfect,” Tony placed a hand against the double doors. “Now, you better not change your mind when you see me fight for you.” He smirked, “I’ll try not to make it too bloody.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty  
-  
I made this prompt into a full fic! Check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754348/chapters/51902134


	7. Bite Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Have some smut!  
-  
Tags: College Roommate AU, Vampire!Tony, Powerless!Peter, TW:Blood Play, Biting, TW:Consensual Non-Consent(Dub-Con), Smut

Peter tossed his phone against the bed sheets to his side. Not only was he bored, but his eyes were strained from all the social media scrolling he’d done. All his friends were out at some frat party or event, dressed in costumes of all kinds and seemingly having the night of their lives. Peter, however, was staying in the dorms because: _Pete, please, I don’t __feel like_ _going __out tonight_.

Tony seemed off ever since he got back from his shift at the hospital and when he gave Peter that pleading look, the younger boy couldn’t resist. So, despite the temptation of a rowdy college party, Peter’s Halloween would just have to be spent indoors.

It wasn’t the worst night Peter has had. He was pretty relaxed; lounging on his dorm bed, listening to lofi study beats, and donning one of his boyfriend’s over-sized band tees. The atmosphere was perfectly chill, save for the energy billowing off his boyfriend, who was currently hunched over his desk, chewing the cap of his pen and boring holes into his textbook with the intensity of his stare.

Peter shifted to sit up on the bed, squinting at Tony from across the little room they shared, “Did you eat today, Tones?”

Tony flinched at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Yeah, of course,” Tony huffed out, not looking up from the page, or rather, refusing to look up. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Peter hummed as he crossed their room to sit on the end of Tony’s bed, facing the older boy’s desk. “For one, you’ve been staring at that same page for over twenty minutes – and I _know_ you read faster than that – plus, that pen cap is just about broken down to its individual atoms.” He quipped, gesturing to the small bits of plastic pooling in the book’s inner fold.

Tony pulled the pen from his mouth and even he was surprised at its state. “Fuck,” He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair before slamming the textbook closed. “Fine, you got me. I didn’t eat. The supply at the hospital is low and I think they’re starting to get suspicious – I mean, I am just an intern – and the school didn’t schedule any blood drives this week because of all the stupid Halloween events.” He slumped down in the desk chair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for another three days.” He said it like a man starved.

“What about hunting?” Peter crossed his arms. “That’s what you did back in high school, right?”

“Can’t do that either.” Tony propped his arm up and massaged his temple like he had a migraine. “Animal tastes weird now that I’ve been on blood bags. And the frats are all doing those tests of courage tonight. The woods are filled with people, so even if I wanted to, I can’t hunt comfortably. I might attack someone.”

“But you’re not attacking me.” Peter pointed out. “Why is that?”

“You’re different.” Tony rolled his eyes with a smile, “You’re my roommate and my boyfriend. I smell you all the time. It’s easier to be around.”

Peter pouted, “I don’t know whether to be offended or not that my blood has no effect on you anymore.”

“I didn’t say that.” Tony laughed. “I said _easier to be around_. Your blood is still very tempting, babe.”

Peter hummed and nodded, “So you should just bite me.”

“No,” Tony scoffed. “We’ve been over this before. I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“Yes, you would.” Peter challenged. “I’ve seen you put blood bags down even when you’re starving.”

“That’s different. It has a different taste. A different experience.” Tony explained. “Biting a human is too-” Tony paused, unsure of what word would do it justice. “I guess it’s too intimate.”

“More intimate than fucking each other?” Peter giggled. “Because we do_ that _all the time.”

Tony smiled, “Yes, more intimate than that. When I bite a human, my fangs secrete this-”

“_Secrete?_” Peter humorously repeated.

“Yes, secrete, I stand by my choice in words.” Tony laughed. “My fangs _secrete_ some kind of aphrodisiac. It makes the person more willing; more excited to be food. I’ve only been at this vampire stuff for a few years but my best guess is that it turns off pain receptors and kicks up the endorphins.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Peter playfully shrugged. “Just bite me. I want to know what it feels like.”

“It’ll probably feel like you’re high.” Tony shook his head. “You can’t consent to anything like that. It’s fucked up.”

“I know that, but I’m consenting now.” Peter shifted off the bed and moved to climb into the older boy’s lap, straddling him.

And Tony tensed but welcomed the closeness, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s slender waist and gently dragging his fingertips across Peter’s exposed thighs. “I just don’t want to hurt you, babe.” He looked up at Peter with honest but hungry eyes, his irises cloudy, already swirling with a scarlet hue.

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.” Peter cupped Tony’s face and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Look at how good you’re being right now.” He smiled, pressing more sweet kisses against Tony’s face.

“I’m on edge right now.” Tony laughed weakly, exposing his fangs. “I’m really fucking hungry. I can’t focus on anything. Everything is so loud. My senses are going crazy and you just smell so good.”

“So, bite me!” Peter exclaimed. “Come on. Please. I’m asking for it, and judging by the way your eyes and fangs are reacting, so are you.”

Tony licked his lips and trailed his hands up Peter’s shirt, idly tracing the younger boy’s contours. “They do that every time you touch me. It’s a nat-”

“I know, _it’s a natural reaction_,” Peter interrupted, rolling his eyes before giggling to himself. “Like a vampire boner.” He joked.

“Hey!” Tony scoffed. “We are _not_ calling it a vampire boner. It’s more sophisticated than that.”

“Well, if you don’t bite me, then I’m just going to keep calling it that.” Peter playfully taunted, tilting his head back and tugging at the collar of the t-shirt to expose more of his neck. “Come on, Tony. Don’t you want this.” He leaned closer. Close enough for Tony to smell him. Close enough for Tony to watch his blood travel through his vein with a steady pulse. Close enough to tempt. To entice.

And, without warning, Tony stood, lifting Peter by his waist like he weighed nothing and throwing him against the bed. “You need to calm down.” Tony practically growled – his fangs fully extended and his irises a bold red – as he put as much distance between them as he could in their small dorm room. Tony had a scary look in his eyes but Peter remained unfazed.

“Or what?” Peter challenged, sitting up on his knees. “You’ll bite me?” He smirked, grabbing at the bottom of the t-shirt and pulling it over his head in a single motion, leaving his body in nothing but a pair of boxers. His eyes were half-lidded and his skin was flushed pink, caused by the arousal that sparked at Tony’s show of strength.

“Peter, this is dangerous. You know that. You-” Tony took a step back, his breath shaky and his muscles flexed. Clearly nervous and worried, but the bulge in his jeans told another story. He took a deep breath, tearing his gaze away from his needy boyfriend in a futile attempt to calm himself. “You’re _really_ important to me.”

“I know, Tones,” Peter smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re important to me too. That’s why I want you to be comfortable.” He whispered, tilting his head back once more, slower this time. “So come eat, babe.”

“Peter,” Tony’s voice was taut; struggling. He was shaking, but he took a few steps forward – each one slower than the last like the proximity was burning him. “You’re serious? You’re consenting?”

“Yes,” Peter spoke softly, his body still. “Just be gentle.”

“_Fuck_,” Tony muttered as he took a final step to the edge of the bed. “I _really_ don’t want to hurt you.” He placed a trembling hand against Peter’s cheek, trailing it downward to graze the younger boy’s pulse point. He let it linger there for a moment, feeling the rhythm of Peter’s blood pumping through it.

“It’s okay, Tones. Come here.” Peter gripped the bottom of his boyfriend’s t-shirt and pulling, motioning for the older boy to join him on the bed. And as Tony sat, Peter climbed back onto his lap, pressing their hardening lengths together. “You can bite me,” Peter whispered, throwing his arms over his boyfriend’s broad shoulders and tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck once more.

And Tony couldn’t resist it.

The young vampire dropped his face against Peter’s neck and inhaled, soaking in the scent. Savoring it before peppering kisses against the smooth skin. They were sweet at first – closed-mouthed and innocent – paired with soft caresses up and down Peter’s sides. Then, the kisses became more sensual; more wet; more vigorous. Each one punctuated with a lick across the pulse and a rougher grip at Peter’s waist. The nibbling was next, and it made Peter’s heart race, adrenaline rushing his body at the scrape of Tony’s fangs.

“_Tony_,” Peter reactively whined, rolling his hips down and grabbing handfuls of the back of Tony’s shirt. “_Please, __Tony,_” He spoke without thought. Begging to his boyfriend as he would during sex because the atmosphere felt so similar. Only, this wasn’t that.

Suddenly, Tony’s fangs pierced Peter’s skin, making the younger man jolt in surprise. A fiery sensation exploded from the bite and each one of Tony’s gulps made it intensify. It hurt like a burn would. The pain was much greater than Peter thought it would be. So, impulsively, he thrashed, trying to pull away, but to no avail. Tony’s arms were locked tightly around his waist.

“Tony, it hurts! You said it wouldn’t-! Wait-? Fuck. What is that? _F__uck, what’s-_” Peter’s voice trailed off as that promised high set in. That fiery pain quickly morphing into unbridled pleasure. Like nothing Peter’s ever felt before. It was euphoric, really. A feeling he couldn’t comprehend. Couldn’t begin to explain. A feeling that had the power to make him go limp in Tony’s arms. Completely submit to Tony’s whim. A feeling with the power to make him moan the neediest, ‘d_on’t stop, please don’t stop_’, that he could muster.

And, for a short while, Tony obliged. Taking in mouth-fulls of Peter’s decadent blood, wholly indulging in his animalistic urges. To Peter, it was wild. The feeling of Tony’s fangs penetrating him; making his head spin; taking him. He couldn’t believe how hard it was making him either.

Peter moaned, rutting his clothed erection against his boyfriend’s jeans. The combination of Tony’s bite and the dry-humped friction made his head buzz with pleasure. But, still, Peter wanted more. “_Tony, touch me, please, I need it, I need it, __please touch me, __please._”

The sound of Peter’s cute pleads made Tony pull away, leaving the bite dripping. Letting the blood trickle down across his boyfriend’s chest; a sign he wasn’t done with his meal yet. “You taste so delicious, baby.” Tony’s voice was husky, drunk on the blood that stained his lips. “You want me to touch you, hm?” He growled, dragging his tongue down the line of dripping blood and stopping at his boyfriend’s nipple, lapping at the sensitive and perky nub.

“_Don’t stop_,” More of Peter’s pitifully needy whines. The sensation of Tony’s licks swarming his body with an immense level of pleasure. At this point, Peter’s mind was gone. There was no pain. No panic. No fear. Only bliss. His brain could no longer form complex thoughts beyond _fuck me_ and _bite me_. Like his body was on a sexual autopilot. Every single one of his nerves was on fire, screaming at him to chase climax and seek the sting of Tony’s fangs. “_Bite me, Tony._”

Tony smirked, turning to push Peter against the sheets before licking the line of blood down the younger’s soft chest and navel. When he reached the elastic or Peter’s boxers, he tore them away. Not caring about the consequences as he grazed his fangs against the soft skin of Peter’s inner thigh. Then, he was biting again, drinking his boyfriend’s sweet nectar once more.

And Peter moaned. Overcome by the stimulating intensity of the bite and the absolute ecstasy of Tony’s hand stroking his stiffened length. Peter’s breathing became heavy and his head felt airy and his body felt engulfed by his boyfriend’s voracity. “_Tony_,” He mumbled between each flick of Tony’s wrist.

The young vampire pulled away again, excess blood falling from his lips and drizzling up Peter’s body like sugary syrup on a creamy dessert as he moved to kiss the younger boy. Sloppily losing himself in the mixture of Peter’s moaning lips and the intoxicating taste of his sweet blood. He kept his strokes steady too, palming at Peter’s leaky erection in a gentle rhythm, basking in the cute reactions of the boy’s urgent yet pliant frame.

Tony dragged his lips down, over Peter’s chin and back to the first bite, latching on again in a gluttonous frenzy. Only pulling away to move to unbroken skin and bite again. And he repeated. Driving his fangs into Peter over and over, littering his neck and shoulders with kisses, bite marks, and smeared blood.

And, despite the clear danger Peter was in, the younger boy felt amazing – lightheaded, sure – but amazing. Because, _fuck,_ Tony was overindulging on _him_ and his cloudy brain made that fact feel electric. Enough to toss him over the edge into an unexpected orgasm that rocked his body so hard that he swore his vision went white. The delirium of coming ribbons against his boyfriend’s hand while those high-inducing fangs pressed into his skin was fucking breathtaking. Filled to the brim with pure, unbridled pleasure that made his ears ring. Made his body tremble. Made his nerves explode in a burning culmination of supernatural ecstasy that made Peter blackout.

~

The next morning, Peter woke with a start. Shooting up from the bed only to be hit with a throbbing headache that compelled him to lay back down.

“Be careful, babe,” Tony was sitting at the end of the bed, staring at Peter like he was an injured puppy. “You’re awake. How are feeling?”

“Like shit,” Peter mumbled through a hoarse voice, bringing his hands up to survey the peppering of bite marks across his neck. “I don’t really remember much. Pretty much everything, after you bit my thigh and kissed me, is a blur.”

“I shouldn’t have done it.” Tony’s expression was riddled with guilt. “I hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop. I just-”

“It’s okay, Tones.” Peter soothed. “I asked for it. Plus, it felt fucking amazing.” He patted the bed, gesturing for Tony to lay with him.

And Tony did, curling up beside Peter and pulling him into a gentle embrace, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “But I hurt you.”

Peter giggled, “I mean, yes, you did hurt me, but that endorphin thing is crazy. I’m hooked. We have got to do that again.”

“You’d want to do it again?” Tony asked slow, his voice a mix of a vampire’s excitement and a boyfriend’s concern.

“Yes, but not for a while. I have to heal up first. Replenish the supply a bit.” Peter smiled and tilted his head up to lock eyes with the older boy. “I said that I trust you, Tony, and I meant it.”

“I fucking love you, Peter.”

And Peter blushed. “I love you too.”


	8. Newlywed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Peter finds himself waking up in a hotel in Las Vegas, naked and married to Tony stark"  
-  
Tags: Fluff, TW:mentions of drinking

Peter’s consciousness hit harder with the morning sun frying his sleep-filled eyes and the ear-ringing hangover cooking his brain. It was criminal; how ravaged he felt. His body aching from the tender love bites at his neck, to the shallow scratches between the dips of his waist and the tops of his thighs, to the familiar soreness of being as close as possible to the one person he couldn’t live without.

They finally did it last night; flew from New York to Las Vegas on a private jet, bought matching suits, exchanged vows and – _oh, he almost forgot_ – rings, too.

Peter rustled his hand from beneath the covers and extended it upwards, marveling at the simple golden band. Despite the gaudy Vegas hotel room around him, his heart still thrummed at the sight. It was perfect. It was his. He was his.

Sure, the elegance of a sweet ceremony – brimming with meticulous planning, gaggles of loved ones, and a tiered cake – all that was absent, but their love was there. It was in the laughter they shared at the terrible pink decor of the Vegas chapel. In the goofy way his husband-to-be strolled down the aisle with that cheap bouquet from the front desk. In the sweet expressions of devotion that brought tears to their eyes.

_Fuck_, even now, Peter was tearing up. He closed his hand and tucked it back underneath the covers. If he gazed at the ring any longer, he would undoubtedly fall into outright sobbing and that was not a good look for a newlywed.

Peter laughed at himself as he recalled the rest of their night. The delicious, candlelit dinner with the squishy bread that Peter enjoyed but his husband didn’t. The hotel casino, where Peter’s would blow on dice and watch his husband win game after game. The rooftop bar with the sweet strawberry mojito special. The intimate chat they shared about domestic things like the color of throw pillows, the price of a new fridge, and the proper backyard size for a new puppy.

Then, there was the electrifying way his husband leaned in, whispering against his ear with a low, sultry voice just how much he wanted Peter. How much he wanted to touch every inch of Peter’s body. How much he wanted to hear Peter fall victim to his pleasure. How much he wanted to fuck his husband senseless.

And Peter doesn’t remember what he managed to say in response – probably something embarrassing and awkward – but he does remember how his husband smiled at him. The excited way his husband called him _dear_ like cheesy married couples do. The graceful way his husband carried him over the threshold of their Vegas honeymoon suite. His husband’s sincere look of love even as they lost themselves in their fervor. 

Peter was snapped from his thoughts by the clicking of the hotel door’s lock. “Room service for Mr. Stark.” It was him. Tony. Peter’s husband.

Peter smiled. “This room is booked for _two_ Mr. Stark’s. You’ll have to be more specific, sir.”

Tony smiled too as he rolled the breakfast cart to the edge of the bed. “This is for a Mr. Peter Stark, complete with pancakes, orange juice, and aspirin for his mojito hangover.”

Peter grinned and dramatically threw his hands across his chest. “You always know the way to my heart, Tones.”

“That’s me.” Tony crawled onto the bed, hovering over Peter. “I take my position as your husband very seriously.”

“Oh, really?”

“Of course, dear.” There it was again. That sincere look of love with enough power to make everything else background noise.

Breakfast could wait. His hangover could wait.

Peter had a husband to kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my Tumblr @obligatorynasty


	9. Master of Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "King tony stark having an obsession of having witch! peter parker for himself request"  
-  
Tags: King!Tony, Witch!Peter

“Do you know why I’ve summoned you here, witch?” The king’s voice was much softer in the privacy of his bedroom – nothing like the power it exuded from atop his throne. Although, from his place at the edge of his bed, his posture remained rigid; overwhelming; dominant. A confidence billowing from his expression like a natural order existed to dictate his right to rule everyone and everything. The way his fingers trilled against his knee and the sharp desire hidden beyond his gaze was stifling, especially to the young witch who stood only a few strides away.

The Stark throne required a new master of magic. Every magic user across the kingdom came to face the trials and present their magical prowess to the king. It was a great honor; one that Peter dreamed of attaining. The only problem was that Peter wasn’t nearly as powerful as his magical cohorts. Comparatively, Peter was mediocre. Strong enough to hold his own in a duel, but too weak to protect the entire kingdom. And, despite his foolishly hopeful thoughts, he knew the king would never choose him as master of magic. 

So, _no_, Peter didn’t know why he was summoned. “No, my king.”

“You caught my eye at the trials this morning.”

Peter tried to contain his excitement. “_I did_?” Maybe his foolish thoughts weren’t for naught.

“Yes,” The king smiled, gesturing for Peter to approach. “Come.”

Peter obeyed, moving to stand only inches away from the king.

“Kneel.”

Peter obeyed that too, dropping to his knees without a second thought and staring up at his king with a naive enthusiasm. “If I may, my king, which one of my spells caught your eye?”

The king grinned, bringing a hand against the underside of Peter’s chin. “Oh, it wasn’t your magic.”

“Then what-?” Peter gasped as the king’s thumb trailed across his bottom lip. 

And the young witch realized very quickly that he wasn’t on his knees to pledge loyalty as master of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


	10. In Each Others’ Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "tony and peter wake up together, neither of them want to wake up instead they want to stay in each other’s arms."  
-  
Tags: fluff, Fluff, FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUUUUUUUFFFFF!

Peter was stunning; laying there with his eyes closed, his eyelashes slowly twitching from whatever dream blessed his brilliant mind today. His untamed hair sticking to his forehead and formed to the shape of the pillow, tempting Tony’s idle fingers to card through the fluffy curls. His brown-hued locks complemented his creamy, flushed cheeks so perfectly. Everything about him was adorable – even the small line of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

And Tony would always think about how lucky he was. To wake up beside someone he loved more than he would admit. To be wrapped in the heavy duvet with his arm languidly set on the curve of Peter’s waist. To hear the way the young man’s steady breaths of slumber would whistle through his soft, parted lips.

If he was given the chance, Tony would stare at Peter all morning; marvel in his lover’s beauty, try to maintain himself underneath the force of his adoration. He could stay for hours just basking in it but, sadly, Peter’s alarm wouldn’t allow it.

The loud ringing jolted Peter awake. It was an early Tuesday morning, which meant classes on campus today. He lazily silenced the alarm, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and – _oh_, this was Tony’s favorite part – the routine kiss of barely-awake Peter. The gentle, drawn-out press of those soft lips against his. The sweet good morning snuggle and those quiet breathy whines that escaped his lips as he fought against the pull of more sleep.

“Morning, Tones,” Peter whispered, trilling his fingers against the small of Tony’s back. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” Tony smoothed his hand across Peter’s thigh, smiling when the young man shivered at the touch. “Enough to see you drooling on the pillow, I guess.”

“What-?” Peter laughed, rubbing at the corner of his mouth and making a face when he felt the cold slick of drool. “Oh god, sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was cute. You’re cute.” Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, his voice hopeful and his expression a pleading smile. “Dare I say, too cute to go to class today?”

Peter giggled, nuzzling his face against Tony’s chest and slipping his arms atop the older man’s shoulders. “You know I have to go.”

“You’re not making ‘_I have to go_’ kind of moves, sweetheart.” Tony laughed, but he didn’t complain. He just wrapped his arms tighter around Peter’s waist.

“Yes, I am,” Peter whispered, seeking more comfort in Tony’s hold as his eyes slipped closed and he relaxed. “Can’t you tell?”

Tony laughed softly as he buried his face in the boy’s hair. “I can tell.”

And it became very apparent that neither of them wanted to wake up, instead, they chose to stay in each others’ arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


	11. Lighthouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "if your taking prompts how about ghost tony x peter where howard (either accidentally or deliberately) killed tony when he was young and hes just been wandering around new york until he meets spider-man who is the only one who can see him because of the spider bite"  
-  
Tags: Angst, Ghost!Tony, TW:Mentions of Murder, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Allusions of Suicide, TW:Trauma

Hopeless was an understatement.

Tony was utterly frozen, grappling with the shock of standing above his limp body and plagued by the sight of blood pooling from the back of his head. The flooding red spilled against the tile that, upon impact, cracked at the bottom of the stairs, fractaling away from his head like the branches of a scorched tree. At the top of the stairway, stood his father, Howard Stark, with an unfazed expression and guilty hands, cradling a phone against his ear. Calloused and cold.

_It’s been done. Come clean him up._

Words that never quite ceased their repetition in Tony’s mind. A constant reminder; a record on loop; a replay button pressed by trauma. It was the noise in his head, clawing at his existence along with the vicious chill that lingered from his inability to intervene. As his body was bagged and pulled away, he could do nothing. Not that he didn’t try. No. He tried and tried _and tried_ to stop them. He tried clutching the bag. He tried pulling at the arms of the men. He tried screaming – _begging_ – for them to stop. Anything. Yet, each attempt was met with the harsh reality of the matter.

Tony was a ghost; unable to interact with the living; phasing through the physical.

That was years ago. Since then, his father passed and gave the company to men without the Stark name. The world continued to spin. People died every day but Tony was still alone. A ghost with no one, wandering purgatory without the slightest clue to its logic.

_It could be worse_, said the twinge of optimism that somehow remained in his ghostly form. Existence was boring but he didn’t need sleep. He could go and see whatever he wanted. New York was his playground, even the hidden parts of it. The illegal parts, the scandalous parts, the too good to be true parts. It was his to explore, but the pessimism still reigned.

When the feelings became too much, Tony would stand on a tall building, walk up to the edge, and think. He was dead but he was hurting; a cruelty he sometimes laughed about when he didn’t cry. And sometimes he would take a step, sometimes he would fall, and this time was feeling like one of those times.

“Wait!” An unfamiliar voice – certainly not directed at him but Tony still spun on his heel because pretending to be seen was sometimes enough.

Standing a few strides away was a young boy, wearing a red hoodie with the drawstrings pulled taut up to his nose, poorly hiding his face. He had frantic eyes, almost like he could see Tony. Almost like he cared. “Okay, humor me, why should I wait?” Tony spoke like no one was watching, his voice unenthusiastic and his body language even more so.

“Because- um… I- I want to talk to you!”

Tony blinked, glancing around the roof and quickly realizing that they were alone. “Me?” Tony choked out, his chest getting tense with hope and anxiety. “You’re talking about me? _To me?_”

“Yes!” The boy reached out his hand like a beacon of hope; a lighthouse. “Now please come down from there. Please.”

Tony took a tentative step down, still shocked by what was happening. “You can see me? Really?”

“Yes, _yes_, I can see you. I see you.” The boy’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he stepped forward, hand still outstretched. Welcoming and warm. “I’m Spider-Man. It’s very nice to meet you…?”

“Tony,” He introduced himself with an unbidden smile, reaching for the handshake and not feeling the usual panic as his ghostly hand passed through Spider-Man’s physical one.

The boy’s look of wonder was only outshone by his soft and earnest smile, “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

And that did it. 

For the first time in years, Tony was seen.

The relief was instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


	12. More Than

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "A smut request where Tony and Peter are camping alone and Tony decided to fuck Peter against the tree"

“Don’t push too hard – _ah!_ – I swear, if I get a bug bite on my dick, we’re fighting.”

Peter breathed a weak laugh, overwhelmed yet desirous. His hands pushing into the bark of the tree and his legs struggling to remain upright with the flood of pleasure ricocheting through his body. It was intense – intenser in the open-air, surrounded by a litany of trees, just like the one holding his weight and scratching his palms. The rhythmic press of Tony’s thickness – the yearn for full when empty, the detest for empty when full – it was a pattern Peter loved, even more with the gratified sounds of his lover mixing with the white noise of nature.

“Want me to protect it for you, sweetheart?” Tony smiled, his hips unceasing as he dragged one hand from the imprint on Peter’s waist to grip at the base of Peter’s stiff and leaking erection.

Peter moaned so loud that it echoed between the trees, his body flinching and his legs wobbly under the brutal force of ecstasy. The dichotomy of feeling each thrust and each stroke teetering on the cusp of too much. “Tony, that’s-!”

“That’s what, kid?” The tone of Tony’s voice gave away how much he reveled in this. The arrogance in knowing he was the one bringing Peter so close to unraveling very evident in the way he teasingly used _kid_.

And Peter wanted to complain about it, make a fuss that he was more than _kid_ now. That he has been more than_ kid _for a while. No one takes someone they call _kid_ on this many couples’ trips; an island getaway, a romantic tour of a foreign city, a secluded campground where the air was crisp enough to make him never want to breathe New York again. Yes, Peter wanted to be witty, push back against the rising ego of his beloved better half, but he couldn’t.

Peter was coming; a silent scream at his precipice like he’d been punched in the gut and a rush of breathy whines as he rode it through. Watching as his cum splattered against the earth and the leaves near his boots. Feeling the overstimulated final thrusts as Tony met him in climax.

“Call me kid one more time and I’m not letting you fuck me on a tree ever again.”

“Again?” Tony perked up. “Anything you say, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


	13. Going Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I was wondering, since you said you wanted starker prompts, if you could do one where Tony is really into degradation and Peter is really not but he endures it for Tony, but then one day he just can't take it anymore and safewords and explains everything to Tony and Tony just immediately becomes the softest, sweetest dom ever? Maybe with praise kink and daddy kink, please?"  
-  
Tags: safeword use, daddy kink, degradation, smut, kinda dub-con

Peter often went along with things.

The first time Tony brought the ropes to their bed, Peter readily offered himself to the binds. They were expensive natural fibers, dyed red and pulled taut around his wrists, anchored to the headboard and facilitating sex so good that Peter saw stars. They both wanted more; they craved it.

Safe words were established next and then came the gradual blindfolding; a hastily removed tie, a bunched t-shirt, and soon, an expensive piece of silk made especially for Peter. Lined with glittery fabric and embroidered with cursive lettering that read _Daddy’s Boy_ – Peter loved it. Just as much as he loved the wax; those fiery drops of pain against his chest as he succumbed to the pleasure of Tony’s practiced strokes and that vibrating plug they purchased only days ago. Suffice to say, their play was escalating – to whips, and collars, and leashes – and Peter just went along with all of it. That is, until Tony brought something else to their bedroom.

It started with a command: _Tell Daddy whose little slut you are. _Simple words that managed to catch Peter off-guard. For the first time, instead of his usual urge to go along with it, a pit formed in his stomach. He hesitated on his reply, unsure if he even wanted to answer, before settling on a slow and uncertain, “I’m your little slut, Daddy.”

And Tony seemed satisfied by it, so Peter ignored his unease and they continued as usual.

The next day, Peter was immobile and bare. Face down, ass up with his wrists and ankles tightly bound to the bed. His eyes were covered, his mouth was gagged, he was lost somewhere in his sub space, trusting Tony to control him.

And what came next was normal; spanking, lube, fingers, stretching, teasing, moaning – desperate, needy moaning – and, eventually, fucking. Tony drove himself to the hilt in one hard thrust, making Peter scream around his gag. The pleasure was intense – just the way Peter liked it – but then, it wasn’t. That blissful feeling was being muddled by Tony’s words. “You’re such a fucking cock slut, baby boy. You enjoy being Daddy’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?”

Again, the pit formed in Peter’s stomach but, again, he went along with it, hesitantly nodding and humming in agreement.

It was on the third day that he couldn’t take anymore.

Peter was beneath Tony’s desk, arms tied behind his back and mouth filled to the brim with cock. Tony’s hands were locked in his hair, pulling harshly and fucking his throat. It was one of the things he loved going along with but, only a few minutes in, and it was ruined. “You like that, you fucking whore? You like choking on Daddy’s cock? You like being used like this? Like all you’re good for are your holes?”

Peter hated that – he viscerally hated that. He yanked his head away, his eyes watering as he coughed and breathed out a hoarse, “Red.”

A word that had Tony untying the binds and helping Peter to his feet. He immediately dropped his dominant persona, reaching to pull Peter into a gentle and comforting hug. As he spoke, his voice was soft and a bit frantic, “What’s wrong, Peter? Did I hurt you?”

Peter shook his head, sniffling to keep his tears at bay, “You didn’t hurt me, Tony. It’s just that… you keep saying mean things to me… and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

Tony’s eyes went wide, “Peter, I’ve been doing that for days. Why didn’t you sa-” He paused, his eyes filling with remorse. “I’m so sorry. It must’ve been scary for you.”

“It’s okay,” Peter shook his head. “I should’ve said something earlier but I could tell you liked it, so-”

“Don’t worry about me, Peter,” Tony interrupted, pressing a kiss against Peter’s forehead. “If you ever don’t like something, please just tell me so I can fix it, okay? That’s how this works.”

“Okay,” Peter blushed and gave a small smile. “I’m sorry for stopping like that, Daddy.”

Tony smirked, “Are you going to make it up to me, baby?”

“Yes,” Peter hummed as he dropped back down to his knees, opening his mouth for his Daddy’s cock.

“That’s my good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


	14. Overdriven to your Limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Prompt, if you're willing. Tony watches the Iron Man armor fuck Peter."  
-  
Tags: Suit Kink, Armor Kink, Smut, Over-stimulation, Safewords

Peter wasn’t easy to please but Tony always tried his best. He may be a graying – very much human – old man but he knew his way around Peter Parker. He knew about the sensitive spot behind his ear that never failed to make him whine. He knew how he liked to be eaten out; a little tongue around the rim and the kid would become putty in his hands. He knew how hard he would come when massaged on the silt of his cock. He knew how to finger ten orgasms out of him, and make him beg and cry for another, even if it was dry. He knew exactly how to whisper in his ear; all the filthiest sweet nothings that would make his whole body shudder.

And those hours of foreplay were often enough for his young, super-enhanced boyfriend. The actual fucking part had become nothing but a twenty-minute reward to himself for getting Peter to that sensory overloaded state of bliss. Just rocking in and out of his boy’s flushed, trembling body and being begged to come because the feeling was just too much – hell, ‘reward’ might not do it justice.

Yes, with Tony’s practiced hands, the difference between their stamina was usually negligible.

_Usually._

Yet, in the past few days, Peter had become obsessed with testing his limits; wanting to come just from being fucked. He was convinced, with his hyper-senses, no foreplay was needed. He brought it up every chance he got – in the lab, during dinner, in the shower, before bed, everywhere – and after a week, Tony knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this one. So, instead, he spent a night in the lab, working tirelessly on a special protocol for the suit’s nanobots. Something that would satisfy his young lover’s desires and make for one hell of a show.

The next morning, Tony texted Peter to come to the lab, asking the kid to arrive prepared and promising him a pleasureful surprise if he did. He knew from the sound of the shower turning on that his message was met with excitement and, only a half-hour later, Peter was eagerly strolling into the lab.

“Tony?” He called out, glancing around the quiet space. “I did what you asked. I’m ready for the surprise.” He took a few more steps. “Tony?” He repeated as he stepped exactly where Tony wanted him.

And, all at once, the five suits that were docked against the wall came alive and rushed Peter, gripping his arms and legs, bending him over and rendering him immobile.

Peter gave a flirtatious giggle. “Oh, this _is_ a nice surprise,” He smiled, unfazed by the sudden ambush. “Fucking me in the suit, hm?” He asked, turning his head to glance at the only suit not holding him in place.

“You’re almost right,” Tony answered as he stepped into the room, the direction of his voice catching Peter off-guard. “I’m actually going to _watch_ the suit fuck you.” He grinned as he pulled a chair from a lab table directly in front of Peter.

“What?” Peter squinted, clearly unsure about the specifics of Tony’s plan. “The suit? How? What did you do?”

“Wrote a little protocol just for you, sweetheart,” Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, grinning as he pulled away. “Since you wanted to be fucked so badly. Fri, run protocol overdrive for me, would you?”

With Friday’s simple _yes boss_, Peter’s jeans and boxers were being dragged to his ankles by a cool metal hand.

“Tony,” Peter gasped and struggled against the strength of the suits, testing how strong they really were. “Tony, wait,” He whined, quickly realizing that his strength wasn’t enough to get free. “Tony,” He whimpered as lube suddenly fell against his entrance. “Tony-!”

“Color?” Tony whispered, his hand gently carding through his boy’s locks.

Peter blushed, staring at Tony with submissive eyes as he muttered a soft, “Green.”

“Good, let me know if that changes, and feel free to scream all you want,” Tony smiled and leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable while Peter tensed.

The suit had begun sliding inside. Its nanobot cock penetrating deeper than even Tony could reach and, just like everything the man built, the flexibly smooth metal cock was a feat of engineering that knew _exactly_ where to thrust. “_Fuck_,” Peter breathed out, his voice pitching higher as the suit wasted no time in brutalizing his prostate, falling into a restless pace that showed no signs of faltering – it was the perk of machines.

Tony licked his lip, staring at Peter’s already dripping erection. He wondered how long it would take to utterly wreck the boy. Turns out it would be quicker than he thought. After only ten short minutes, Peter’s first orgasm came with a deep moan, trembling legs, and two thick streams of cum against the floor.

That was when the fun began.

Remember, Tony knew his way around Peter Parker and, in his experience, the moment after that first orgasm was everything to his hyper-sensitive little spider. “Let’s pick up a pace,” He commanded and the suit obliged, speeding its thrusts despite Peter’s protest.

“Tony, that’s-” Peter’s voice caught in his throat as the intensity of the pleasure burned through his senses. 

“That’s what?” Tony teased.

“_Too much_,” Peter whimpered, his face flushed pink and damp with sweat as his curls bounced back and forth with each thrust. “It’s too much, I’ll—” He paused, eyes squeezing shut as the next one hit him, shock-waving through his frame like the aftermath of an explosion. “—come.” He groaned through clenched teeth, his head weakly drooping down and his body weight slumping against the other suits.

“Color?” Tony asked, reaching to tilt his young lover’s chin upwards.

Peter bit his lip and exhaled slow, “Green.”

“Then let’s continue.”

And they did. For two hours. Milking Peter for untouched orgasms, seemingly, with no end in sight. The first two were white, sticky, and made a mess of the floor. The next few were just clear squirts that paired with the most addicting moans Peter could muster. The recent two were nothing but dribbles. And Tony could tell that they were getting there – to the dry ones.

“Faster,” Tony commanded.

“Tony, wait, I can’t-!” Peter screamed as another orgasm rocked through him and left him breathless. It had come to that point, where even his enhanced body was convinced it couldn’t handle anymore. His skin felt scorched by pleasure, nerve endings sparking with a sweet pain as his muscles spasmed in a dry climax. “_Tony_,” He whimpered, just barely able to lift his head and lock eyes with the man in front of him. “No more, stop, I can’t, I-”

Once again, like a broken record, Tony asked, “Color?”

And Peter took a deep breath as the suit momentarily slowed its pace, “Green.”

Tony smiled, “How many times now?”

“W-What?” Peter spoke through a ragged breath.

“How many times have you come?”

“I-I don’t know,” Peter stuttered as the suit picked up speed. “_A lot._”

“Count the next three,” Tony ordered. “And then we’ll stop.”

“T-Three?” Peter repeated, wide-eyed and exhausted.

“Three,” Tony leaned forward, cupping Peter’s face in his palms. “They’re going to be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter muttered, eyes full of trust as he tilted his cheek against Tony’s hand.

“Max speed,” Tony called out, and much to his surprise, Peter managed to climax after just two of the high-speed thrusts.

“One!” Peter loudly groaned, his voice echoing against the lab walls and mixing with the pistoning sound of the suit’s rapid motions. The over-stimulation had him tearing up, staring at Tony with wet eyes.

“Color?”

“Green!” Peter screamed as those tears started escaping down his cheeks and the next orgasm punched him in the gut. “T-Two!” As his voice shook, so did his resolve. “Tony, I can’t, no more, too much-”

“You keep saying no,” Tony whispered. “But how do you really feel, hm?” He asked as he thumbed away the tears. “Go on, tell me.”

Peter was panting, “Tony, I’m not-”

“And be honest, sweetheart,” Tony leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Peter’s. “Or I’ll keep it going for another three.”

“It-” Peter whined. “It feels so g-good!” He cried out, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he whimpered and moaned. “It’s so fucking good, Tony!” He inhaled sharp, breathing out a strained, vulnerable and desperate, “_Thank you, thank you, thank you...fuck!_” His eyes shot open and, just as quickly, squeezed shut, “Tony, I’m coming-!” He choked out as the intensity of the pleasure left him completely still until it didn’t, and tremors of ecstasy flooded his muscles, and he let out a scream louder than all his others.

“Fri, end protocol overdrive.”

All at once, the suits released him and let his wrecked frame drop into Tony’s open arms. He had bruises that were already starting to heal, and his legs were shaking, and his breath was heavy, and his big brown eyes were so far blissed out that Tony wasn’t sure if he was even present anymore. “Hey,” Tony whispered, threading a gentle hand through his boy’s curls and holding him tightly with the other. “Come back to me.”

Peter gave a low groan and slowly lifted his head from Tony’s shoulder. “I can’t walk.” His voice was hoarse, “And I want water and a bath and ice cream and—“ He dropped his head back down. “—a lot of affection too.”

Tony smiled and lifted Peter into his arms, carrying him bridal-style towards the lab’s elevator. “I think I can arrange that.”

“And Star Wars,” Peter quickly added with a lazy smile. “I want to watch Star Wars.”

And Tony just nodded, “Anything you want, Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3  
Tumblr | @obligatorynasty


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